The Lightning Thief: ReImagined
by Mythomagic-Champion
Summary: In a world where Demigods and Mutants coexist but never meet one young Demigod ignorant of his heritage is mistaken as mutant and sent to learn control over his amazing powers at Charles Xaviers School for Gifted Youngsters. But The Fates have other plans for him. How does he find his way too Camp Half-Blood and how does this effect the quest for the Master Bolt? Find out inside


Prologue: The Beginning

The young dark haired boy no older than six sat curled up in a fetal position far in the corner of the dark and shabby room. The only light came from a window covered by drab brown curtains obscuring his view of the city below. Cigar smoke hung in the air burning his beautiful sea green eyes; it took all his will not to cough, for he didn't want to draw attention to himself. Scattered across the apartment lay broken bottles of beer, the source of all evils (at least to him) they glass cut into his skin. Crashes could be heard a few rooms down as his step-father drunkenly stumbled about trying to make his way to the refrigerator to grab another shot of the happy juice.

Each noise caused the poor child to whimper in fear; he wished his mama were here with him, she would hold him in her arms and comfort him and tell him everything would be alright. He wished she were there but was also glad she was gone so she wouldn't hurt like he was. The nice nurses who would shower him with affection and attention in the hospital told him that his mama was in a better place where angels were and she could watch over him from heaven. Sometimes he wished he were there too.

The crashes drew closer and he hid his small body behind a worn and stained looking beige sofa. He was so close when his hand crunched down on a jagged piece of glass drawing glistening red blood to the surface of his skin. He bit down on his bottom lip but to no avail as a pathetic whimper made it's way out of his mouth.

A large, sweaty hand roughly grabbed the back of his frayed t-shirt pulling him out from his safe haven. He grabbed for the couch but his walrus sized stepfather was too strong for him. Smelly Gabe as he secretly called him too his mama turned him so they were face to face and backhanded him hardly across his face. Tears slid silently down his cheeks, which were beginning to throb. Smelly Gabe dragged him by the hair to the small apartments kitchen and thrust him to the floor. His head banged against the white tile making his head spin and showing him stars.

"You stupid piece of shit if it weren't for you and your whore of a mother my life would have been great!"

He wondered what he had ever done to deserve this pain this hate. All he wanted was to be loved. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Smelly Gabe slide open a draw, reaching inside and taking something out. He saw a flash of silver in the dim light and then his stepfather was standing over him in his hand a giant kitchen knife his mama used to use for cooking before she got sick. His stepfather had a crazed glint in his eye and he could tell that something horrible was going to happen.

The man standing above him raised the knife and slurred, "When I'm done with you no one will ever be able to find your cold dead body." And smiled crazily.

He scrabbled backwards on his hands and knees to get away from the psychotic to be murderer. A heavily booted foot slammed down on his back pinning him to the floor.

"P-please, please d-don't!" he begged through loud sobs. The foot lifted from his back only to come back down harder.

"Shut-up, you son-of-a-bitch!" The giant man yelled at his stepson. He leaned down and leveled the knife right where the boy's fast beating heart lay in his chest.

The boy had his eyes squeezed shut terrified. He knew he was about to join his mother in the next world. His stomach clenched an odd pain went through him and then released an with it the pipes burst, blasting the heavy man off him and into the table where he then laid slumped and unmoving the only sign that he was alive was the rise and fall of his chest.

The boy slowly rose from his position on the floor on unsteady feet. He looked around him and saw that everything was soaking wet besides surprisingly him. He was caught in a queer mixture of terror, shock and relief. He made his way uncertainly to the phone hanging in its bed on the wall and dialed the three simple digits his mama told him to if he ever got into trouble and she wasn't there. A woman answered him right away and said in a monotone voice

"This is 9-1-1 what's your emergency?"

That was six years ago, after the police cleaned up the ruckus, the boy; Perseus "Percy" as he liked to be called, Jackson (his mothers maiden name not his jerk of a stepfathers) was placed into foster care. Percy, now age 12 is in sixth grade and after getting thrown out of his fifth foster home in the past six years for making trouble he now lived at St. Peters Home for Wayward Young Boys in **Westchester County, New York** until they could find a family to take him in.

He really didn't try to get in trouble (though his dyslexia and ADHD beg to differ) trouble just seemed to find him. He could tell you about the time in fourth grade when the class fish started to talk to him (which landed him in a mental institution for awhile and shrink which he thankfully managed to get off his back after convincing him that he was completely sane) or any other point in his extremely odd life but things got really weird when he managed to make the fountain in the front lawn explode and got some strange visitors with an interesting proposition, but before we get to that lets start at the beginning, see it all started with a simple prank.

AN: So what do you think? I think it's pretty good but that's up to you so please leave a review and tell me I'd love to hear! See you in the next chapter! Also I by no means own any of these two franchises if I did Charles, Jean and Scott would all be alive and I'd be a demigod.


End file.
